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Where shall I start? My thoughts are in turmoil. There is an overpowering desire burning in me to put in writing as speedily as possible all that has happened to us in these years of war, especially…
While imprisoned by the Nazis and awaiting her death, Gusta Dawidsohn-Draenger recalls her last supper with other resistance leaders in the Vilna ghetto.
My beloved son and daughter!
I am writing these lines, my dear children, in the vale of tears of…
Finding something to say about Westerbork is also difficult because of its ambiguous character. On the one hand it is a stable community in the making, a forced one to be sure, yet with all the…
A day passed, and then a second and a third. Wednesday came, the ultimate deadline for the transport’s arrival. There were two obvious reason for the delay. First, it appeared that in addition to…
Good night, wide world.
Big, stinking world.
Not you, but I, slam the gate.
In my long robe,
With my flaming, yellow patch,
With my proud gait,
At my own command—
I return to the ghetto.
Wipe out…
He was the last. Truly the last.
Such yellowness was bitter and blinding
Like the sun’s tear shattered on stone.
That was his true color.
And how easily he climbed, and how high.
Certainly, climbing…
2. What was it that made for the peculiar position of the Jews in the Middle Ages and later, until emancipation came along? It was the ghetto, we are told and told again, which was at the root of…
On the third morning, as soon as I was alone, I found the way to the mellah [in Marrakesh]. I came to an intersection where many Jews were standing around. Traffic was streaming past them and around a…
Once there was a stroke of misfortune.
The day it happened, Mother couldn’t stop cursing this wretched life. Something occurred that almost caused Father to hang himself out of pure shame. After that…